The sun like silver scissors cuts the ice
water breaks from its winter caverns
dissolves you
your blue aura surrounds you
like water is
before a storm
before a memory
struggles itself into being
becomes a perfect circle
I do not need my eyes
In the warm pale cup of your hands
your face is a dark liquid
there are no earthly colours
a universe rests there
I want to touch with my own hands
it's endless fire
it's throbbing stars
before time
becomes timeless again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem